


The Supermodel's Husband

by FortitudeSakura



Series: Through Their Eyes [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XIII Series, Final Fantasy XIII-2, Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 12:12:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15773889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FortitudeSakura/pseuds/FortitudeSakura
Summary: Your crush on Lightning Farron comes too late, because some lucky bastard married her first.





	The Supermodel's Husband

This is the big leagues now. Your manager tells you that the creative director of Luis Wuitton* requested for you specifically for the next campaign. You can hardly believe it.

“Do you know who else is going to be part of the campaign?” you ask, excitedly.

“Well, I think Lightning Farron will be shooting it with you since she is the face of Luis Wuitton. I’m not sure if there are any other models.” your manager says speculatively.

The other names don’t matter. Lightning Farron was the only model that mattered to you. You’d be hard pressed to find a man who didn’t consider Lightning attractive.

You’ve been in the industry longer than Lightning Farron and so remember her discovery and subsequent rise.

She had been ‘discovered’ by the noted photographer Phillip Argentum when she was walking down the street, minding her own business. He had proclaimed her to be his muse and the subsequent photoshoots he did with her garnered much attention.

You, and many others, remember her first commercial. It was a car commercial that featured her zipping down the busy streets of Tokyo. The commercial ended with a shot of her long lean legs getting out of the car before looking at the camera telling you that it was your turn. The commercial was well received by both male and female audiences. Women wanted to be like her, strong and cool and men wanted to be with her. Either way, sales for that specific car model soared after the commercial aired and it propelled Lightning’s standing as a model.

She walked on major runways, her cool exterior making her a hot favourite and did plenty of print ads. Her signature blossom hair was well talked about both within the industry and with the general public.

You’ve worked with her once, walking for Kenjo. She was even more strikingly beautiful in person. You asked around about her after the show, hoping that someone tells you more.

You remember Lightning Farron’s slightly prickly nature which was what had deterred you from speaking to her in the first place. However, apparently it never stands in the way of directors and photographers from requesting her. Several stylists say that even though she appears to be cold and aloof, she’s actually quite polite.

‘She’s real professional.’ one makeup artist gushes. ‘She just sits there in the makeup chair and doesn’t move. She even says thank you to everyone who works on her. Unless some models. God, some models are sooo stuck up!”

According to several set assistants, she also never makes outrageous demands the way some lesser models do. Her only regular requests were for a coffee (black, 1 sugar) and a ham and cheese croissant (if the shoot is an early morning shoot) or chicken caesar salad (if it was too hard to find or an inappropriate hour for said croissant).

Somehow after those conversations and a great deal of fidgeting in the makeup chair, you thank everyone when the shoot wraps up and continue to do so for each subsequent gig. You pare down your requests to just a steak sandwich. Sometimes a breakfast burrito with orange juice (pulp, no pulp, fresh or bottled it didn’t matter).

You also discover that she’s married (much to your chagrin). You sit calmly in your chair as the hairstylist carefully arranges your hair and douses you with copious amounts of hairspray. Some of the makeup artists were talking about Lightning and you almost strain your neck trying to eavesdrop, 

“I didn’t even know she was seeing someone at the time!” another makeup artist says. “She just turned up to the shoot with a ring on her finger!”

“She didn’t get an engagement ring though. Her husband definitely could afford a huge ring for her.” one of the younger girls huffed.

“Lightning’s not the type of person to wear a huge ring anyway. She probably would have gotten just a plain band if it weren’t for her husband. You know, he insisted on that one from Miffany*. I looked it up. It’s over $20,000! 3 carats of diamonds and they’re probably all flawless, D colour diamonds.”

Your mouth falls open.

After some more eavesdropping, you discover that her husband is the Director of the Academy - the prestigious research institute. You assume he’s some kind of old fart and your opinion of Lightning sours a little.

Giving into your curiosity, you turn to Moogle*. To your surprise, the Moogle search of Hope Estheim returns a young silvered haired man. You had assumed that no Director could be under the age of 45. He’s incredibly handsome and looks quite tall in pictures. He could probably have been a model too. There are plenty of videos of him speaking at conferences, pictures of him with important academics and politicians. He’s well composed and eloquent.

You’re forced to retract the unsavoury opinion you have of Lightning, instead channelling the energy into jealousy of Hope Estheim. However you’d rather die than admit that you felt inferior to him, a man you had never met. All because you have a raging crush on his wife.

The morning of your shoot you turn up just as you see one of the assistants hand Lightning a takeaway cup and a brown paper bag, no doubt the black coffee with one sugar and ham and cheese croissant that she habitually requests. You walk over and introduce yourself.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Lightning.” her handshake was warm and firm. Her voice was a soft alto and rather soothing. It calms your nerves somewhat.

Lightning is nothing but professional during the photoshoot and you wish you could have impressed her more.

(You harbour a secret fantasy of sweeping her off her feet, holing up with her in your penthouse apartment and well…)

Before you know it, the photoshoot is finished and the set is being packed up. A mix of makeup artists, stylists, set directors and lighting assistants have planned to go out. You were invited (of course) and you wonder if Lightning is coming out too.

“Hey Lightning! We’re going out for drinks tonight. Come join us!” calls the photographer. She’s simultaneously wiping her face with a makeup wipe and rummaging through her large Luis Wuitton duffle bag. 

“Maybe next time, I have a plane to catch.” she politely declines.

The girls giggle. “Flying back to your hubby?”

She gives the girls a soft smirk before calling for a car.

The next day you see an article on Fuzzfeed* featuring pictures of Lightning titled “5 times Lightning and her husband were #couplegoals”.

There’s a photo of them, taken at a charity ball. She’s wearing a shimmering dress the colour of champagne and her hand is resting gently across his abdomen, her wedding band catching the camera’s flash just perfectly so. The tux her husband is wearing fits his tall frame perfectly. His left arm is snaked around her waist, his hand laid comfortably at her hip with his own wedding band (a plain platinum band) just visible.

There’s a few more of them at the same ball. One of her husband staring lovingly at her as she’s being interviewed and another of Lightning fixing up his bowtie before he goes up to give a speech (with Lightning’s prickly personality showing on her face as her husband smiles sheepishly).

There’s a series of photographs of varying quality - some look like paparazzi shots, other’s look like photos taken from a phone. She’s being greeted at various places (a train station, the airport) at various hours of the day by her husband and he’s always holding a bouquet of roses, always embracing her and always opening the car door open for her like a gentleman. 

There are various other shots of the two of them, at breakfast, at the beach with friends. There’s even various paparazzi shots of her husband, his ties circled in red. Accompanying the pictures are snaps of Lightning at the airport, the You recognise the various ties as being from Luis Wuitton and there’s no doubt in your mind that Lightning bought them for him (or was most likely provided the ties).

You know deep down that they’re not putting on a show for an audience. They simply don’t care that they had an audience. What really surprises you is that how genuinely happy Lightning looks in those photos, that the smiles she exhibits are only for her husband. You close the lid on your laptop in bitter jealousy.

Lucky bastard.


End file.
